• This is the tenth installment of the Millennium series and the end of the first season.
• It was posted to the net on January 31st, 2003
• An accessory alert is in effect.
• Dedicated to Susan Mullarky, who continues the fight.

Their computer banks were full, their science section had more data than they could possibly research for the next ten decades, and their navigational system contained detailed charts of space the Federation had never before encountered. There was even a Borg drone recovering from assimilation in sickbay. All in all, it had been a most eventful mission, but Kathryn Janeway, captain of the starship Millennium, was happy to be giving the order to head home. As much she loved her command, her ship, and her crew, it would be good to be back in the Federation, if only for a little while.

She was especially happy that her spouse of a few years would be able to spend time on Earth. The last few months had been particularly difficult, and Janeway hoped that some time in Indiana would help heal the young woman who was still dealing with the emotional repercussions of finding her mother alive after twenty-three years of being part of the Borg Collective. Unlike Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix One, Erin Hansen had not been as fortunate in regaining her individuality, and remained in a catatonic state that only attentive care from Federation specialists stood a chance of treating.

As Janeway stepped off the turbolift into her quarters, she faltered briefly in surprise. Soft music played melodiously in the background while a multitude of candles, scattered about the cabin, added to the warm and provocative atmosphere. Standing at the kitchenette counter, Seven looked up from the last details of her meal preparation, her expression unusually soft and inviting. She was dressed in a silver, silken garment that revealed a respectable amount of cleavage and even more of the long, lovely legs that made up most of the young woman's intimidating height.

Janeway paused momentarily, staring at her spouse in bemused admiration before offering a bit of a crooked grin, raising her index finger in emphasis.

"I bet you thought I forgot," she accused.

Seven tilted her head marginally to the right, amusement warming those icy blue eyes. Her long blonde hair cascaded gloriously around her narrow, attractive features where metallic glints from the implant around her left eye and starburst on her right jaw caught the reflection of candlelight. "I thought no such thing, Kathryn," she protested mildly. "I know you have improved greatly in the time we have been married."

Janeway laughed and moved over to her spouse, drawing Seven away from her meal preparation and into her arms where she embraced her tightly.

"Happy Anniversary, my darling," she murmured, raising her face to Seven who obligingly kissed her.

"Happy Anniversary, Kathryn. I love you so much."

Janeway hugged her. "The feeling is entirely mutual." She kissed her again and reluctantly released her. "Do I have time to change before dinner?"

"Of course," Seven said. "I have laid out your clothes."

"Hmm," Janeway said, moving toward the bedroom. "How do you know that I don't have something else in mind?"

Seven lifted a brow. "I do not." She paused. "Do you?"

Janeway shot her a coy look over her shoulder. "Wait and see."

The captain entered the bedroom, ignoring the navy shift draped across the bed. It was Seven's favorite outfit for her spouse, but Janeway had been planning her anniversary for some time. She may have possessed a horrid track record when it came to remembering Seven's birthday, with only a two for six ratio, but she was much better at remembering the day the couple had been married. Which was ironic because she had been terribly hung over that morning and could barely count her toes, let alone appreciate the special day. Thank god the Doctor had administered an anti-intoxicant in time for the ceremony.

From the back of the closet, the captain retrieved a container that she had stashed during the ship's last diplomatic away mission in the Delta Quadrant. The fashions on Terris Four were a bit daring, but quite appropriate for what Janeway hoped would be a perfect anniversary. In previous years, there had usually been a party thrown for them by their friends and family, but this time, Janeway and Seven were limiting the celebration to only themselves. The crew was just too busy preparing for the upcoming transition jump to be distracted by an event that, truthfully, was only significant to the captain and the chief science officer.

Janeway took a quick shower, added some perfume and cosmetics, and finally dressed in her special outfit, evaluating her appearance in the large mirror over the sink counter. The dress was designed to enhance Janeway's physical attributes in a manner that wasn't exactly befitting a starship captain. It was cut up to here, and plunged down to there, while giving the impression that Janeway might possibly be somewhat less than hard to get this night.

The captain moistened her lips with a touch of nervousness as she took in the final effect. Goodness, how can it reveal that much without actually revealing anything?

In any event, the bright glow of appreciation in Seven's eyes was well worth the effort. Janeway smiled as the Borg met her in the living area, extended her arm and formally escorted her to the table located in the garden ... actually an arboretum filled with flowering bushes, dwarf apple trees and even a fountain. It was set with fine china and crystal, located in the fragrant shade of the apple tree that was in full blossom, starlight streaming through the vast viewports lining the hull to grant everything a silvery touch. Nearby, varied dishes, covered with metallic domes, waited to be savored.

"This is lovely, darling," Janeway murmured as she sat down.

"So are you," Seven whispered as she drew aside the captain's hair to brush her lips over the back of her neck. It provoked a pleasurable shiver that ran down Janeway's spine. Even after four years, the young woman could still turn Janeway's knees to jelly with just a touch. She watched as Seven slipped into the seat opposite, waited until she settled, and picked up her wine glass. The ruby depths glinted slightly from the candles flickering in the center of the table.

"To you, my love," Janeway said, her throat suddenly full. "Marrying you was the best thing I've ever done. You're my heart."

Seven's eyes glowed, and she clinked her glass lightly against the captain's. "To you, my Kathryn. From the beginning, you are the perfection always sought and finally achieved."

Deeply touched by the Borg's words, Janeway blushed faintly and took a brief sip of her wine. Dinner proved to be several courses, each one more elaborate than the first, and it was clear that Seven had truly outdone herself in her meal preparation. Janeway relished every bite, the couple lingering over their food as they laughingly shared remembrances of those special times on Voyager, their year and a half on Earth, and the previous year on Millennium. It was wonderfully lighthearted, with both women deliberately shying away from any topic that might darken their evening.

Relaxing over dessert and coffee, Janeway with her special blend, and Seven with her raktajino, the captain was struck by how far her spouse had progressed on her road back to Humanity from her time as a drone in the Borg Collective. It thrilled the captain to know how much further they could expect to travel in their life together, and what wonderful discoveries awaited them.

"Are you looking forward to seeing Earth?"

Seven lifted a brow, a tiny curve at one corner of her full mouth. "It will be good to see Gretchen and Phoebe again," she admitted. "I have missed them greatly this past year. I have missed Jake, as well."

Janeway smiled as she thought of the Irish setter that the couple had raised from a puppy, but had been forced to leave behind with the captain's mother after accepting the posting to Millennium. Yet, there were no regrets. The Frontier-class starship had proved to be a most worthy command, and the vessel itself was a dream, specifically designed for exactly the sort of missions Janeway loved best. Despite knowing that she would be accorded leave upon their return, as possibly as long as six months, Janeway was anxious to discover where their next assignment would take them. Millennium's prototype transition drive offered the ship the opportunity to travel further and faster than any other starship had ever managed. The entire galaxy was there to be explored, and Janeway was determined to see as much of it as she could.

"What are you thinking?" Seven's head was tilted slightly so that her ocular implant was angled toward the captain.

Janeway smiled. "About our future. We're not even home yet and I'm already planning where our next mission will take us."

Seven was not put off. She knew her partner's nature very well and fully accepted it. Starship command was as much a part of Janeway as her rich, auburn hair and the bluish-grey eyes that altered shades, depending on her mood.

"In the meantime, will we be staying with Gretchen in Indiana?"

Janeway pursed her lips. "I sent a letter to her in the last communications packet." Every month during the past year, Millennium had paused long enough in its exploration to create a tiny transition conduit and fire a communications probe through it to the Federation. The previous month's transmission had been delayed slightly because of an incident with a member of the Orion Syndicate, but eventually, the torpedo had been launched. "There's no way of knowing if she'd like having us as house guests for that long."

Seven looked vaguely surprised. "Would it be an imposition, Kathryn? She was so disappointed the last time we refused her hospitality."

"You know she adores you, darling," Janeway pointed out, "but she is married now and has Michael to take into account." She sighed. "It's too bad we gave our house to Chakotay and Icheb. I wonder if I could persuade them to give it back."

"Such a request would leave them without a home," Seven pointed out. "It is an unacceptable demand, Kathryn, particularly since our stay on Earth may only be temporary."

Janeway shrugged lightly. "Well, if you want to look at it that way." She paused. "Any ideas?"

"Perhaps we could utilize an away mission habitat and place it near the pond at the farm in Indiana." Seven stared at her with an expectant expression. "I know how much you enjoy cohabitation with nature."

"With the ducks and the frogs, not to mention all those mosquitoes?" Janeway laughed and lifted her coffee cup, peering at her spouse over the rim. "Quit teasing me, or I may forget to give you your present."

Seven's eyes lit up. Even after all this time, she still exhibited a childlike wonder at gifts, perhaps because she had been forced to forgo such things during her eighteen years with the Collective. "I have a gift for you, as well."

Janeway blinked. "Darling, this dinner was a most wonderful gift," she protested mildly.

Seven ignored the comment, and drew out a small, neatly wrapped box from somewhere beneath the table, reaching over and placing it before the captain. Janeway eyed it with gratification. Truth be told, she rather enjoyed receiving presents as well, though not nearly to the same extent that Seven did.

"I'll open it in a moment." She rose from the table. "Wait here and I'll find yours."

Returning to the interior of the captain's cabin, Janeway retrieved the large, gaily wrapped gift she had been concealing in a cabinet next to her work station for the past month. She suspected that Seven had found it at one time or another during the occasions when she periodically altered the furniture layout of their living quarters, but the captain was also aware that the Borg would respect what it represented and refuse even to touch it. The contents would still be a complete mystery to the young woman.

Seven wiggled slightly as the captain placed it on the table in front of her. Janeway chuckled, knowing that the Borg wasn't even aware of that delicate little shudder of excitement she displayed when presented with a surprise. As the captain resumed her seat across the table, she regarded her partner fondly, pleased beyond measure that she was able to provide her partner with this time of happiness. It was a relief to know that Seven could still recognize and accept the joyful moments, despite her current turmoil.

"You go first," Janeway urged.

Seven hesitated, shooting her a look that combined enjoyment and anticipation in equal measure. Janeway sipped her coffee with quiet pleasure as the young woman carefully unwrapped the box with delicate precision. The Borg's blue eyes grew even more brilliant as she opened the top and drew out the first item resting upon several smaller, similarly wrapped packages. There was a time when Janeway's primary gift would have been civilian clothing since the Borg would not indulge in replicating them herself, content with her skintight biometric outfits. But during their time on Earth, or perhaps it was simply because she wore a Starfleet uniform now, the young woman had greatly expanded her sense of fashion. Now she boasted more outfits on her side of the couple's closet than did the captain. In fact, Janeway had noticed recently that her half was becoming progressively more cramped and now consisted of only about a quarter of the space.

Seven definitely did not need more clothes.

She did enjoy art, however. Janeway painstakingly inspected every alien market her ship came across, constantly aware that for whatever reason, Seven's and her taste in sculpture was diametrically opposed. This particular carving had been discovered on a tiny world in a sector Millennium traversed midway through their mission. Spotting it in the merchant's booth, Janeway had immediately pounced on it, believing it to be the single, most ghastly thing she had ever encountered ... which was saying something considering the eclectic Delta Quadrant collection that already graced their quarters, particularly in the cabinet that lined one bedroom wall and Janeway was forced to look at every night before closing her eyes for sleep.

"Kathryn, it is beautiful," Seven exclaimed as she examined the carving with pleasure, drawing one fingertip lightly over the intricate lines.

Janeway wisely held her counsel. "There's still more to open."

Offering the captain an affectionate look, Seven carefully set the small statue to the side and peered into the box, drawing out another parcel that proved to contain several cooking utensils. They were grotesquely alien, but could be used for a variety of things. At least, Janeway hoped they could. If not, Seven could always stick them on the wall behind her kitchenette as yet another decorative, if hideous, display of alien artwork.

"They are quite unique, Kathryn." Seven's eyes were wide with delight.

Janeway grinned crookedly. "That they are, love."

Seven dived back into the box. Janeway had discovered over the years that it was far more enjoyable for the both of them when the captain to provided the Borg with a lot of little items in one gift, rather than trying for a single, extravagant present. In contrast, Seven had mastered the art of making their special day such an event of monumental proportions from beginning to end for Janeway that her actual gift to the captain was something of an afterthought.

Not that Seven didn't always know the perfect thing to present to her spouse.

"Oh, Seven." Janeway lifted the necklace from the velvet padding, holding it up to catch the flickers of candlelight as she examined it with delight. "It's absolutely breathtaking." Fortunately, Seven was as cognizant of Janeway's tastes as the captain was of hers.

"Do you truly like it, Kathryn?" Seven asked anxiously.

"It's exquisite, darling." Janeway eyed her spouse speculatively. "Just as you are."

Seven blushed faintly and offered the captain a searing look that told her that the best presents were yet to be unwrapped this night. Janeway could hardly wait to get to them.

This emotion grows stronger every year, Seven realized with some amazement. Perhaps not as overpowering in its intensity, nor as extreme in its response as when she first fell in love, but it most certainly became deeper and more solid with every experience they shared. Kathryn was so much a part of Seven at this point; it was as if she were as necessary as continued respiration. Without her, the Borg's essence would probably cease to exist.

Her arms tightened subconsciously at the thought, and Janeway let out a soft grunt as the air was squeezed from her lungs. Seven immediately eased her grip. "I am sorry, Kathryn."

Janeway laughed, a husky chuckle that skittered up Seven's spine. "I love when you hold me tight." Her hands slipped down the Borg's back, tracing light patterns over her skin.

"I love you," Seven whispered.

Janeway sighed and lifted her face, seeking out her partner's mouth and kissing her with tender regard. Seven prolonged the kiss, the tip of her tongue slipping out to part Janeway's lips and granted immediate entrance to taste the captain's wonderful flavor. Emitting a soft sound from the back of her throat, Janeway molded her body to Seven's, kissing her back with ready abandon.

Seven could happily spend the rest of the night just as they were, kissing deeply and dancing in the moonlight, but she was keenly aware of Janeway's growing desire and responded in kind. Continuing their dance, she guided them unerringly to the bedroom, pausing only when they had reached the side of the bed. Never losing connection with her lover's mouth, she drew back the covers, revealing silken sheets of a deep midnight blue. Meanwhile, Janeway's hands moved over the young woman, seeking out the fastenings of her dress and skillfully removing it by pushing it down over her shoulders to let it fall to the floor. Undergarments quickly followed, leaving the Borg naked to Janeway's appreciative gaze.

Seven, on the other hand, was quickly stymied by the captain's outfit. She started in one area and quickly discovered it didn't unfasten that way. Her second attempt in another area was no more successful than the first. Bemused, she drew back.

"I do not know how this outfit is removed."

Janeway blinked, the mood slightly broken as she started to help. Unfortunately, though the captain had obviously donned the garment in the first place, she had no more success in removing it than had Seven.

"This is ridiculous," Janeway muttered as she tugged and pulled at various places of the clothing, wiggling in frustration as it defied her at every turn. She frowned and lifted her chin. "Remove it, Seven."

Seven lifted a brow, understanding well what that order meant. "Are you certain, Kathryn? It is a most beautiful outfit and not the sort that can be easily replicated."

"It served its purpose." Janeway offered her a look that could have seared the paint off the bulkhead. "Do it."

Seven inhaled slowly, and with a certain applied pressure of her left hand covered in a Borg mesh, she very carefully tore the dress from Janeway's body, leaving it in tattered shreds on the deck. It gave her a certain twinge in her chest to do so, more for the painful memory it inspired than any regret at the destruction of the garment, but Seven was working very hard not to entertain any dark emotions this evening. She deliberately forced everything else from her mind, concentrating only on the reality of being here with her partner, loving her so much that it almost overwhelmed her.

"Finally." Janeway exhaled with relief as she reached for Seven.

Seven returned the embrace, glorying in the sensation of the captain's smooth skin against her own. More as a result of long practice than natural grace, they managed to slide between the sheets without any further interruption of their heated caresses. Seven rolled them over so that she was on top, resting on the captain with a light pressure, enough to cover her body with her own, but not so much that it felt restrictive. Janeway's fingers raked through the Borg's hair, holding her head to her as they kissed and kissed until Seven thought she had lost track of her senses. She never grew tired of this interaction, never wearied of this body, never felt as if their intimacy had become mundane or overly familiar. It was always a cherished experience to be able to touch her captain, to run her fingertips over the smooth skin and seek out those places she knew gave Janeway the most pleasure.

The joy of tasting Janeway never palled either, the captain's lips so responsive to her own. Seven delighted in surrounding a velvet soft nipple with her mouth, teasing it with the tip of her tongue until it ached with sensation. Depositing feather light kisses along each slope and curve, she caressed hither and yon, exploring every familiar path to that intimate juncture, until finally, she opened her mouth wide, allowing the musky moisture quicken on her tongue like the finest of wines. Her tongue danced and darted, lingering over the tender flesh, swirling provocatively as the captain bucked and moaned. So many private nooks left to explore, the Borg mused wonderingly, so many sensations she could still provide with her mouth.

And her fingertips. Seven touched the wet opening, entering slowly, probing so deeply at times with her long fingers that she was amazed. Knowing well her lover's mood, she moved firmly within Janeway as she flicked her tongue, drawing out the pleasure until the captain cried out and clutched at Seven's head, holding her tightly to her juncture as she shuddered helplessly in her release.

Janeway moaned and swallowed, licking her lips, then reached down for her partner, urging her back into her arms. They rolled over languidly, reversing positions, and it was Seven's turn to tremble beneath the captain's hands, to utter involuntary sounds as Janeway stroked and fondled and loved her with exquisite skill. Just as Seven knew the captain, Janeway knew exactly what her Borg liked and responded to, though that never prevented her from attempting something new now and again. She liked to tease, too, bringing Seven to the brink before pulling back, tormenting her in the best sort of way until finally, mercifully, she granted the young woman the release she so desperately craved.

In the afterglow, Seven reclined on her back, feeling her respiration and heartbeat slowly return to normal. Beside her, Janeway snuggled close, head resting on the Borg's shoulder, her body curved against Seven's so tightly, it was hard to determine where one woman left off and the other began. They lay in companionable silence for some time, listening to the other breathe, feeling safe and cherished and beloved. Slipping her hand over the Borg's right breast, Janeway toyed idly with Seven's nipple, circling it lightly, not necessarily to arouse, but simply because it felt so pleasant to them both.

"This was a wonderful anniversary."

Seven smiled faintly into the darkness. "They will only become better from here."

Janeway hummed happily, settling closer. There was a pause. "One of us has to go blow out all those candles before they activate the ship's fire suppressant system."

Seven lifted a brow, suspecting she knew which of them it was going to be, but to her considerable surprise, the captain stirred first. Depositing a kiss on the Borg's mouth, she wiggled out from between the sheets. Seven dozed in cozy contentment until Janeway finally returned, diving energetically into bed as if trying to escape capture by some unnamed threat, startling Seven awake. She was laughing as she snatched at the covers, causing the Borg to quickly snatch them back. The pair wrestled briefly for supremacy before finally settling down in the center of the mattress, cozily wrapped up in each other's arms.

"You are incorrigible, Kathryn."

Janeway, tucked under the Borg's chin, tightened her embrace and bit lightly at Seven's neck. "Always." She sighed. "Two more days, darling, and we'll be back in the Alpha Quadrant."

"Yes." Seven circled her metal clad fingertips lightly at the small of Janeway's back, activating them so that they vibrated gently. She considered what it meant. "We shall lose crewmembers."

Janeway made a sound of agreement in the back of her throat. "Not as many as happened with Voyager after our return to the Federation, but yes, we'll be losing our first year officers to other postings while we take on second year personnel from other ships. We'll also be receiving a whole new crop of fresh graduates."

"Can the first years not remain on board Millennium if they wish?" Seven thought wistfully of the friends she had made among the junior officers.

"I'm afraid that in the beginning, you go wherever Starfleet determines you're needed. It's normal for an officer to serve in a wide variety of positions during the first few years of their career."

"I did not," Seven pointed out.

Janeway lifted her head and smiled at her spouse in the lowered illumination, the white flash of teeth barely visible. "I think we can agree, my darling, you're a very special case."

Seven perked up with interest as Janeway shifted further, slipping a leg across the Borg's groin and lifting herself until she was straddling her. Obviously, the captain was still amorous, aggressively so, meaning that her hormonal time of the month had coincided nicely with their anniversary. Obligingly, Seven rose as well, arranging the pillows behind her back so that she was reclining against the headboard, her face only inches away from Janeway who took the opportunity to kiss her with lingering passion.

"Could you not request that some of the first year officers remain?" Seven persisted as she lazily stroked the captain, running her fingertips teasingly over those small, wonderfully proportioned breasts.

Janeway arched under the caress, resting her hands on Seven's shoulders. "I could, but I'd only do that if an officer looked particularly promising. I thought Tarn might be one of those special cases, but apparently I was wrong. She never fulfilled the promise she had, and obviously, I gave her more than she could handle in the beginning."

Seven, who knew how much Janeway hated to be wrong about anything, smiled faintly and slipped her hands down the captain's torso. The captain sipped air audibly between her teeth.

"Hmm, love, could we talk about something other than the ship and the crew?"

Seven eased her right hand between them and touched Janeway lightly, making her twitch and press closer.

"Such as?" The Borg eyed her expectantly, knowing how much verbal interplay contributed to her partner's arousal.

Janeway threw her head back and smiled. "I think you know."

Taking a deep breath, the musky scent of their lovemaking strong in her nostrils, Seven fondled the tender flesh, moving back and forth over the little ridge that became firmer with each delicate stroke. Janeway moaned happily and leaned into her partner, resting her head on the Borg's left shoulder. Arms tight around Seven's neck, she nuzzled into the long blonde hair, and pressed herself rhythmically against the swirling fingertips.

"Mmm, that's absolutely lovely, darling."

"You are so easy to please," Seven noted dryly.

Janeway laughed huskily. "I'm easy, period, particularly when it comes to you." She kissed Seven, a moist, open-mouthed kiss. "Tell me, darling ... oh, heavens ... is there any place on this vessel ... god, that's good ... that you would like to make ... ah, ah, oh ... um, love before we return?"

Seven lifted a brow thoughtfully. "We were not as adventurous on Millennium as we were on Voyager."

"Well, we managed ... ah, that one time ... oh my ... in your office." Janeway trembled.

"Yes, but on Voyager, we made love in the holodeck, in the auxiliary room beneath the saucer section, on your desk in the ready room..."

Seven suddenly froze, reminded again of the incident that had occurred only a few weeks earlier. It was still a very painful and sensitive subject for the Borg, despite her knowledge that the captain had completely forgiven her for the attack prompted by a 'pheromone bomb'. Janeway immediately sensed the disruption of their intimacy, reining in her passion as she cupped the Borg's face in her palms. Kissing her with sweet tenderness, she soothed away the dark thoughts that had temporarily invaded their togetherness.

"I love you," the captain murmured against her lips, "so much, my darling. When you touch me, when you make love to me, it makes me feel so complete. It excites me so much to think about our being like this in different places, even after all these years of being married. You are and always will be my ultimate fantasy, Annika."

Seven swallowed hard and resumed her caress, moving her fingers lightly in the captain's moist heat.. "We could always attempt the bridge," she suggested in a low voice, attempting to recapture the mood, not just for the captain, but for herself. "Your command chair is at the perfect level for me to use my mouth on you."

Janeway shuddered lightly. "Yes, love, what a delicious thought."

With her left arm, Seven pulled her spouse closer, putting her mouth next to the captain's ear. "It will counteract the detrimental effects of a transition jump, Kathryn. You could lean back in the captain's chair as I consume you, preparing you for the upcoming journey to another quadrant." Janeway's hips began to undulate once more, and Seven could feel a renewed rush of moisture bath her fingertips. She quickened her motion, fondling the nodule with greater intent. "Can you feel me tasting you, Kathryn? Can you feel my mouth on you as around us, the bridge crew strive to carry out your bidding, your ship readying itself to take you wherever you wish to go. You order the transition drive to be activated as I slip my tongue into you." Seven did her best to match action to word, pushing two fingers into Janeway, the clinging walls closing around them tightly.

"Oh, god ... Seven ... that feels so good..."

Using her thumb, Seven manipulated the swollen nub, rubbing it firmly.

"You put your hands in my hair and hold my head to you tightly, even as you demand more power from the warp engines. Your ship plunges toward the slipstream conduit that has been opened, moving faster and faster."

Janeway licked her lips, her breath coming hard in Seven's ear, guttural groans of accelerating pleasure.

"The ship enters the conduit, eager to do your bidding, even as I strive to maintain your arousal. I will carry you through this jump, Kathryn. Your desire will protect you against the effects of the drive. The faster the ship travels, the more pleasure I give to you."

She could tell her partner was close now, responding to both the touch and the sound of her voice describing the fantasy.

"Come for me, Kathryn," she whispered hotly. "We're almost through the jump. Come for me."

Janeway trembled, perspiration breaking out over her as she strived to reach that pinnacle, her breath coming in a rasp.

"Come for me, Captain."

The use of her rank pushed her over the edge, as Seven knew it would. Wonderful flutters surrounded the Borg's fingers as Janeway jerked and moaned, helpless in her release. Cradling her, still intimately joined to her, Seven acted as an anchor while Janeway slowly gathered herself in the aftermath of her climax.

"Damn, if only I could make a transition jump like that rather than sprawled out unconscious in my ready room." She paused, tensing abruptly. "That isn't really an option, is it, Seven?"

Seven laughed, a sudden expulsion of amusement. "No, Kathryn. It was only a fantasy." She drew back and looked at Janeway expectantly. "I am curious. Would you allow me to pleasure you on the bridge if that was truly a viable alternative to sedation?"

Janeway laughed. "Let's just say I'd have to grant the idea serious consideration," she admitted as she wiggled on her spouse.

Amused, Seven gently and lovingly withdrew from her spouse, the two women sliding back down the bed where they snuggled together amid the tangled sheets. Janeway reached down and cupped Seven suggestively, her middle finger pressing deliciously in the Borg's wetness, fondling her lightly.

"Darling?"

Seven smiled, responding to both touch and suggestion. "Slowly," she requested as Janeway's fingers moved gently against her. "I wish to prolong our evening."

Janeway laughed huskily, moving her mouth close to her spouse's ear as she stroked her with lazy delicacy. "So tell me, darling ... what would you like your fantasy to be?"

Seven swallowed hard and told her, invoking the image of the geometrics lab on deck ten and a piece of large mining equipment that vibrated in a most intriguing manner when activated.

Across the table, Lenara Kahn, a civilian scientist, seemed to catch his thought.

"It's quiet tonight." She was a beautiful woman, statuesque, with golden brown hair and delicate spots that traced down from her temple to disappear beneath the collar of her tunic. A joined Trill, the wisdom and experience of her symbiont shone through her gentle eyes, making the Cardassian/Bajoran hybrid feel very young at times.

"The crew's been busy," he said as he picked up his glass and sipped the wine. "Perhaps they're too tired to play."

She smiled. "It's been my experience with Starfleet officers that the harder they work, the harder they play."

He returned her smile but didn't reply. A part of him vaguely wondered if she was flirting with him. They had begun a tentative relationship a few months earlier, spending time together whenever possible over lunch and dinner, but they hadn't reached the intimate stage. Nor were they likely to at this point, Zar decided with regret. While he had every expectation of receiving a new posting upon their return to the Alpha Quadrant, Lenara would most likely remain with Millennium.

"Ready to head home?" Lenara added, prodding her pasta as if unsure she was going to finish it.

Zar shrugged lightly. "It's been an interesting year."

Lenara abruptly lifted her head, studying him keenly. "You like it here," she said with certainty. "You don't want to move on."

"A part of me doesn't," he responded honestly. "This is the first posting where I've actually been happy. The crew respects me, if for no other reason, in some cases, than because the captain and the senior officers do. I've made some really good friends, and Janeway is the best commanding officer I've ever served. She's taught me so much about what it means to be a starship captain."

"So don't go," Lenara said reasonably. "Request a permanent assignment as Janeway's exec."

"I've seriously considered it." Zar broke apart his bread and spread some butter over it, more for something to do with his hands than because he was still hungry. "I doubt very much that I'd find another captain who would accept me as readily as she does."

"But..."

Zar blinked. "But?"

"It sounds like there's a 'but' in there somewhere."

That was part of the reason Zar liked Lenara so much. Whether it was the symbiont or just a natural gift of her host, she was exceptionally perceptive.

"But," he continued, "I'm worried that I may be drawn to that decision because I am so comfortable here."

"I'm unaware of any rule that says you can't be happy in your position."

"I know, but 'comfortable' could be the first step toward stagnation," Zar said seriously. "I've been fighting for respect and acknowledgment my whole career. Should I be satisfied with only an initial taste? I've always wanted my own command."

"Are you sure they'll offer you one?"

Zar sighed. "Not at all. That's why I think I'll speak with the captain and sound her out about remaining on board as her first officer." He shrugged suddenly. "It's possible she won't even like the idea."

Lenara looked thoughtful. "I don't think that would be the case. From what I've heard, she's very pleased with your work. I wouldn't plan on talking to her this evening, however."

Zar blinked. "No?"

"It's their anniversary."

"Excuse me?"

"Seven told me that it's their anniversary today," the Trill elaborated patiently. "I don't believe either of them would want to be disturbed." She quirked an eyebrow at the first officer. "Hard to take, isn't it."

Zar experienced a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "I'm not sure what you mean."

Lenara smiled faintly. "I doubt you're the only one on the ship who's ever entertained thoughts about Seven." She paused to take a sip of her wine. "In fact, were she not so obviously besotted with her wife, I might be a little tempted to become closer to her, myself. She has an incredibly brilliant mind."

Zar was speechless, finding it hard to believe he was suddenly having this conversation.

"Nor is it just her mind or those voluptuous physical attributes," Lenara went on in a tone that was difficult for the Cardassian to pin down. Was she teasing him? "It's the combination of looks and brains, coupled with an innate innocence and vulnerability simmering just below an icy, professional exterior. Who wouldn't be attracted?"

"Uh," Zar began, and stopped when he realized he had nothing else to contribute.

Lenara began to laugh, and with some relief, Zar laughed, as well. There was nothing like humor to put things into perspective, including his futile crush on the ship's science officer. "How did you know?"

"Three hundred years of experience," Lenara offered. "I tend to pick up on emotional vibrations that others would overlook. It wasn't hard to figure out why you suddenly started participating in the science department's evenings out. It certainly wasn't for the technical discussions."

"Prophets, was I that apparent?"

"Only to me," Lenara offered. "Definitely not to Seven. Otherwise, I'm sure she would have mentioned it to me." She dropped her napkin on her unfinished meal, put her elbows on the table, linked her fingers and rested her chin on them as she looked at him. "She never did."

Zar exhaled. "I moved past it, but I admit, it took a while." He took a restorative sip of wine. "Besides, even if I were the sort to dare interfere in an ongoing relationship, there's no way to disrupt the one between the captain and Seven. It's far too ... solid."

A wry twist touched the corner of her mouth. "That it is." She eyed him contemplatively. "So, what are your plans for the rest of the evening, Tulek?"

The commander tilted his head, not entirely sure he was reading her correctly. "I'm free," he said carefully.

Lenara offered him a smile, a rather predatory one. "Why not join me in my quarters for a nightcap?"

He wondered if her sudden increased attraction to him was because he was going to be leaving the ship, or because he had told her that he might not. She seemed to detect his hesitancy and she leaned forward. "There's a Trill saying, Commander: if you can't be with the one you love, then love the one you're with."

"That's a Trill saying?"

Lenara's smile widened. "I just said it, didn't I?"

Feeling somewhat overwhelmed, but quite pleased, he returned the smile and finished his wine. Rising from his chair, he courteously offered his arm. "I would be honored, Lenara." They didn't look back as they exited the Nexus.

Zar started the next day with a much greater esteem for Trill experience and a sort of bittersweet understanding that the exceedingly pleasant evening offered no expectations for either of them. Lenara made it clear that it was an encounter between friends who would remain as such. Still, Zar did regret that it had happened so late in the mission. He might have moved past his crush a lot sooner.

At the first opportunity, he asked to see Janeway in her ready room. Fortunately, a lull had occurred in the feverish preparations for the transition jump, and the captain was able to grant him a moment, leading him into her office. Taking a seat in the conversation area located on the upper level of her ready room, Janeway offered him some tea before settling on the sofa with some coffee from her ever present thermos. She appeared tired, fine lines edging her eyes and mouth, and he wondered if the preparations were taking more out of her than she would admit. She looked physically uncomfortable as well, shifting slightly on the cushions as if sore.

"What's on your mind, Commander?" Evaluating him keenly, she sipped her dark beverage with quiet pleasure.

"Captain, I've been thinking seriously about remaining on board Millennium," Zar said, leaning forward in his chair. His large hands dangled easily between his knees. "Of requesting a permanent posting."

Janeway blinked, and a smile spread across her face. "That would be wonderful, Tulek. You've become a marvelous first officer." She paused, and a mischievous expression crossed her face. "Not to mention the fact that Nechayev's diabolical plan to saddle me with a new exec every mission would be nicely foiled. I can't expect to be as fortunate in officers two years running."

Zar smiled. "I doubt very much that driving you mad is the reason behind the Admiral's decision." He paused. "Not entirely." She laughed, and he regarded her with something akin to affection. "You're an amazing teacher, Captain Janeway. I've learned so much about commanding a starship over the past year, more than in my entire career to date."

Janeway sobered. "Ah, starship command," she noted, holding up an index finger. "We can't overlook the fact that, thanks to the war, Starfleet is in desperate need of commanders for their vessels." She reached over and put her hand on Zar's arm, the warmth penetrating his tunic. "You'll make a wonderful captain, Tulek. As much as I would love to have you stay on board, you have to look at all your options. You may be offered your own starship rather than merely another exec position. It'll be a chance to make your mark in Starfleet in a way that perhaps you won't have by staying with us."

Zar resisted a sigh. "That's why I wanted to speak with you, Captain. I'm torn between doing what I want, and what feels comfortable, and doing what's best, not only for myself, but for Starfleet."

Janeway nodded, her brow furrowed thoughtfully. "Why not wait and see what's waiting at home," she suggested. "Certainly, if it's just a transfer to another post, I'll fight to make your assignment here permanent. But if they offer you a ship of your own, I can't, in good conscience, hold you back. My father once told me that the best of the best should be in command. That's you, Tulek."

Zar offered her a grateful look. "You're making this very easy for me, Captain."

Janeway smiled. "Well, I don't believe in limiting anyone's options." She favored him with a mock stern expression. "Just be sure you guide my ship home safely tomorrow or the deal's off."

Zar returned her grin and dipped his head, recognizing the audience was at an end. As he stood up, he cleared his throat. "I understood yesterday was your anniversary, Captain. Congratulations."

Janeway's smile widened and her eyes grew very bright. "Thank you, Commander."

"No celebration?"

Color rose in the captain's cheeks. "Oh, Seven and I celebrated." Her tone was oddly ironic and wryly amused in a way Zar didn't quite understand. The corner of her mouth quirked. "Four wonderful years of marriage and it only gets better with every passing day, Commander."

Zar managed a smile. "I envy you," he said honestly.

Janeway walked with him down the ramp to the lower level, slapping him companionably on the back. "All you have to do is find the right person, Zar, and you'll have everything I have."

Zar wondered if it would ever truly be that simple, especially since the 'right person' was already taken.

The viewscreen at the front of the bridge revealed familiar stars and the welcoming escort of a Federation starship that the captain immediately identified as the USS T'Kumbra. Janeway had expected a Starfleet vessel to be in the vicinity of the exit coordinates, waiting to greet the returning Millennium, but she was surprised to discover it was the all-Vulcan starship. Captain Solok wasn't the sort of experienced captain who would find it logical to be assigned such a relatively minor escort duty.

Janeway slipped into her captain's chair, Zar relinquishing it to her without so much as a glance, the exchange quick and easy. As Janeway surveyed her bridge, the dark head of Lt. T'Shanik covering operations caught her attention, and it occurred to her suddenly that perhaps Solok had reason to request the assignment. T'Shanik was his youngest sibling, and from what the captain had gleaned from the young woman's personnel file and subsequent conversations with her, Janeway had the distinct impression that there was a little tension there ... at least as much as Vulcans were apt to display.

She would have to keep an eye on that, she decided. T'Shanik had turned out to be a fine operations officer, and Janeway wasn't about to give her up, family be damned.

"Report," she said, pleased when her stomach stayed where it was. A part of her thought that the jumps grew progressively harder to recover from, and she wondered if there was some kind of limitation on it. Would she know it was time to retire when her body could no longer withstand the stresses of a transition jump? She couldn't imagine settling for an Alpha Quadrant assignment or an administrative desk job, not after tasting the true explorative joy of going where no one had gone before with a ship as powerful as Millennium.

"All systems nominal," Zar said from the first officer station he assumed. "The jump was perfect."

Seven shot him a look. She was slightly pale, perhaps even a little ill. Though her nanoprobes enabled her to maintain her composure through a jump, it still made her nauseous. Janeway wondered if she shouldn't insist on the Borg being sedated as well.

"That is incorrect," the Borg told the first officer coolly. "There was a three-point-five phase variance within the slipstream integrity flow." Obviously, Seven still hadn't forgiven Zar for overriding her wishes and severing her mother from the Collective. She wasn't exactly angry with him, just piqued that his command decision on the sphere had subsequently caused her such emotional turmoil, and she displayed it with an even more exacting Borg demeanor. Janeway was quite familiar with the mood. Zar appeared considerably disconcerted at the frosty attitude emanating from the science officer.

"I stand corrected," he said mildly.

"You are sitting. If such imprecision is maintained..."

"Seven," Janeway said in a low, warning tone, amusement warring with command discipline in her voice.

Ice blue eyes briefly peered reproachfully at her over a slender shoulder, but the young woman subsided and returned to her duty.

Janeway lifted her chin. "Ops?"

"The USS T'Kumbra offers its welcome and has fallen into position seven thousand meters off our port bow," T'Shanik stated. "It will escort us to Deep Space 9." The Vulcan's tone was a little more defined than normal, and Janeway's eyes narrowed. Definitely some kind of problem there. "Engineering reports transition drive secure, warp engines online."

"Standing down phasers and torpedo bays," Ro announced from her post at tactical, shutting down the weapons array that had been activated while the ship was making the jump. Not that it would have done any good, of course, but the psychological benefits of thinking one was ready for anything that might happen was always good for the crew.

"Course to DS9 plotted and laid in, Captain," Nog offered.

"Very good," Janeway said. "Warp factor five, Lieutenant. Engage."

She felt the slight surge vibrate through the soles of her feet as the warp drive kicked into gear and the ship leaped forward, their escort keeping pace. It would take a few hours to reach DS9, and Janeway chafed slightly at the restrictions placed on her ship. It had been discovered that frequent warp travel damaged subspace, and, as a result, a 'speed limit' of warp five had been established within Federation space. Millennium, with its newer technology, did not cause the same damage, but until most of the vessels in the Federation had been upgraded, the moratorium would remain. Starfleet vessels were expected, as a courtesy to all those civilian vessels, to keep to warp five unless it was an emergency.

In the meantime, that left Janeway with little to do, having caught up on all her administrative duties prior to the transition jump. She glanced at Seven.

"Lt. Hansen, that three-point-five phase variance; what's the problem?"

Seven half turned in her chair to look back at the captain. That was the only disadvantage to this current bridge layout. Officers either kept their back to the captain as they replied to her queries, appearing slightly rude, or they were forced to look away from their consoles. Still, Janeway preferred this design, especially since the command chair was a distinct and separate entity, dominating the bridge simply by its placement.

"It is most likely the result of the damage sustained by the power cores in the sabotage," Seven replied. "It represents no danger at the moment, but left unchecked, it could cause a shift in the stream, altering the exit coordinates."

"We could end up God knows where," Janeway translated. She lifted a brow. "Good thing Millennium is up for an overhaul now that we're home."

"A full ship-wide diagnostic and maintenance upgrade should correct the problem," Seven agreed.

Janeway offered her a smile and, since no one was looking, blew her a kiss. Seven's eyes widened disapprovingly at such behavior on the bridge, and turned back to her board. Resisting a chuckle, Janeway leaned back in her chair. She was surprised at how exhilarated she was to be home, even though a part of her couldn't wait to start exploring the unknown again. Perhaps it was a leftover from her experience with Voyager where their eventual return home was always an uncertain prospect. She was simply more sensitive to it than other captains would be in her place.

Once docked at DS9, Janeway no longer had time to sit back and muse. During the trip to the space station, a flood of communications had been transmitted from Starfleet, ranging from new orders to various members of the crew, to updating the senior officers on what had happened in Federation during their absence. Arrangements for leave was undertaken and Janeway was issued several invitations to drop by the other vessels in port and to visit the station to accept Colonel Kira's personal welcome home. A diplomatic soiree was also scheduled for that evening, requiring Janeway and all her senior officers to attend. Seven tried to demur once the couple had returned to their quarters.

"Oh no, you skipped out on the one just before we left," Janeway told her as she pulled on her dress uniform. It was the same outfit in which she'd been married, and it always put her in a good frame of mind, despite how little she enjoyed formal functions. "You have to be there at my side tonight, darling, just so I'll have someone to talk to."

Seven's arms were across her chest, looking absolutely spectacular in her whites. "You always have someone to speak with, Kathryn. That is the reason I am adverse to attending. I am frequently left alone while you converse with various dignitaries and admirals. It is tedious."

Janeway paused long enough in her preparations to hug the Borg and brush her lips over her cheek. "Nothing could be tedious with you present," she murmured reassuringly. She drew back and smiled. "Besides, the entire senior staff is expected to be there, not just you and I. I'm sure with B'Elanna and Ro lurking about, you three can find yourself some trouble to get into somewhere."

Seven wavered. "Very well," she said grudgingly. "I wish to visit with my mother first, however."

Janeway nodded. "That's fine. I have some last minute tasks I need to attend to as well. Let's meet at the air lock on deck fourteen at 1800 hours."

Seven dipped her head. "I will comply."

Janeway took the turbolift back to her ready room. The ship, docked to the station, sounded different than while in space, the constant hum of the engines and life support no longer audible, replaced by a slightly different vibration as the vessel fed off the umbilicals leading to DS9. Through the large windows dominating the captain's office, the solid arch of a pylon loomed, while small worker pods and space-suited engineers darted merrily around the station and its attending vessels. Frequently, another ship would either arrive or depart, sometimes through the nearby gamma quadrant wormhole in a spectacular display of light and color that spread across the sky.

It was 1753 hours when the captain was interrupted by the admittance chime. She frowned slightly, checking the chronometer, but settled into her chair behind her desk.

"Come."

She was surprised when Ensign Elisa Tarn entered. Junior officers were not in the habit of bearding the captain in her den. It was Zar's job to deal with anything that arose with them. This had to be of the utmost importance in the girl's mind for her to bypass the first officer.

"Captain, do you have a minute?"

Janeway was curious enough not to dismiss the girl out of hand. "I can give you five," she offered. "No more." Even so, she knew she would be late meeting Seven. It took at least five minutes to make her way to deck fourteen.

"That would be fine," Tarn said, taking up a position in front of the desk, hands linked behind her back, posture so straight it made the captain's back ache.

"At ease, Ensign," Janeway said mildly. "Have a seat."

"Thank you, sir." Tarn sat gingerly in the chair across from Janeway and peered intently at the captain. "Sir, I am tendering my resignation."

Janeway blinked, displeased. "I see."

"Not for the reasons you might think," Tarn added quickly. "It's not because of my tour of duty here. It's just that..." She hesitated, then plunged in. "I thought I knew what to expect from Starfleet. I was wrong. I didn't really understand how I had been looking at things until I was thrown into that escape pod. I was so busy trying to get what I wanted and needed from Starfleet, I didn't come to grips with what Starfleet wanted and expected from me. If I had been more aware of what was happening instead of dwelling on my personal grievances, I never would have ended up on that planet. Before I accept another assignment, I have to be certain that this life is the right one for me."

Janeway inhaled. "Are you sure this isn't really to do with losing your position on the alpha shift?"

Tarn smiled. "I'm positive, Captain," she admitted, and the look in her eyes revealed that she was actually telling the truth. "I wasn't ready for that shift. I'm not even sure I was ready for this ship. I still have so much to learn, not only about being a Starfleet officer, but about myself."

"I suppose that's the first step ... realizing what you don't know."

"I believe I've finally figured that out." Tarn dipped her head. "I want to thank you for your patience, Captain. I know you offered me a wonderful chance. I just wanted to let you know this had nothing to do with you. It's completely my undertaking."

Janeway lifted her hand. "I once told you that success and failure should be treated exactly the same. I want you to reconsider this decision, Ensign. I don't believe you'll be any richer for leaving Starfleet, and I know Starfleet will be the poorer for losing you. If not for yourself, then please, for me, don't make any final decisions until we're back on Earth and have been debriefed by Starfleet Command."

Tarn hesitated, and then dipped her head. "Very well, Captain."

Janeway nodded. "Dismissed." As she watched the young officer leave, she made a mental note to speak with Zar at the diplomatic function about what they could do to prevent Tarn's resignation. It would be a shame for Starfleet to lose such a promising officer, and she was sure that by putting their heads together, she and Zar would find the perfect solution.

"Seven?"

The young woman turned to meet the light blue eyes of the ship's counselor, Kes. The Ocampa was also wearing her dress uniform, the stylized snowy outfit cut to her slender form, making her appear even more petite.

"Counselor." Seven inhaled slowly. She had been warming to Kes over the past few years, but since the Ocampa had taken over treatment of Erin, Seven had regained her wariness and distrust. The Borg wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was because she didn't really understand what Kes did or what sort of results she expected to achieve with Seven's mother. To Seven's mind, Kes' efforts were insufficient, though everyone the Borg had talked to regarding the issue had counseled patience, even B'Elanna for whom the concept seemed totally foreign.

Seven found it very hard to be patient.

"Have you considered the institutions I recommended?" Kes had provided Seven with information regarding potential care facilities on Earth. There were, of course, many institutes throughout the Federation that could provide the necessary care, but Seven had specified her spouse's home planet, in the event the couple chose to remain close by throughout Erin's recovery.

"I have," Seven replied. She took a breath. "I would prefer a facility in San Francisco or Indiana."

Kes nodded soberly. "You still want to be an active participant in your mother's care."

Seven nodded. "It is my responsibility."

"I could debate that," Kes said quietly. "Certainly, your mother did not share that sense of obligation."

Seven felt a thread of anger stir in her chest. "I am not my mother," she said coldly.

Kes regarded her. "No, Seven, you're not," she said very gently. "But that doesn't mean you have to act as you think she should have acted, as opposed to what's best for you."

"I do not understand."

Kes reached over and put her hand on Seven's arm. The Borg did not pull away, but she stiffened at the touch, and the counselor dropped her hand. "Seven, there's no way of knowing how long Erin's recovery will take. Don't put your life on hold. No one wants that."

Seven took a last look at her mother, feeling very uncomfortable. Sickbay suddenly felt very oppressive. "I promised to meet the captain," she said, needing to escape. "Please, keep me updated on my mother's progress."

She did not look at the counselor again as she fled the room, her thoughts in turmoil. Moving hastily to the turbolift, she instructed it to take her to deck fourteen. No one was there when Seven arrived at the airlock, and with a brief sigh, the Borg took up a position to the side of the corridor, linking her hands behind her back as she waited for the captain. Janeway arrived some ten minutes later, slightly out of breath from her dash from the turbolift.

"Sorry, darling, I had a visitor just before I logged off." Janeway tilted her head. "How's your mother?"

"Unchanged," Seven said shortly.

The couple stepped through the lock and walked down the short tunnel to another air lock, where a round, rust-colored door of Cardassian design rolled back to grant them entrance into the station itself. Traffic within the docking pylon was light, but up on the docking ring, conditions grew considerably more crowded. Many species made DS9 a regular port of call, and the varied sights, sounds and even scents that assaulted Seven's senses made her feel uneasy.

"The counselor told me that I must not put my life on hold while my mother recovers," Seven said abruptly as the couple exited onto the Promenade. Janeway shot a look at her and took her arm, drawing the young woman off to the side where an oval viewport looked out onto the area of space containing the wormhole.

"Tell me more."

Seven hesitated. "We are expected at the function," she reminded.

"The party can wait," Janeway said firmly. "Talk to me."

Seven found herself looking out at the colorful swirl of light and energy as the wormhole was accessed by a departing vessel, the image lingering on her retinas even after it collapsed into a bright point before completely disappearing.

"I have spoken to Kes about my mother's future treatment, and which institutions would offer the best care. I specified Earth, and the counselor believes that both the facility in Brisbane, Australia, and the Starfleet facility in Atlanta, North America would be capable of providing the necessary medical staff and advantageous surroundings. There are treatment centers in both San Francisco and Indiana, but they are not of the same quality, either in personnel or in administrative structure."

Janeway nodded. "I see," she said quietly. "Why San Francisco and Indiana, specifically?"

"So that I could remain close by. I believe that is why Kes gave me that advice. She indicated that there is no way of knowing how long Erin's recovery will take." She found it difficult to breathe, forcing herself to take measured breaths. "She clearly believes I should not participate in my mother's recovery."

"I don't think it's that, Seven. I think Kes just wants you to do what's best for yourself." Janeway was leaning against the nearby bulkhead, the silvery illumination from the viewport softening her classic features.

"Erin is my mother, Kathryn," Seven said raggedly. "I must take care of her."

The captain nodded. "If that's what you have to do."

Her voice was unnaturally even, and Seven stared at her, feeling hurt and confused. "Why will you not advise me in this, Kathryn? You said that this must be our decision as a family, yet you refuse to tell me what you think is best."

Janeway exhaled audibly and glanced out the viewport, her eyes growing distant as she crossed her arms over her chest. "There's a fine line between my supporting any decision about your mother, and my influencing you into a decision that suits only my needs, Annika," she said quietly. "I want desperately to do the former, while assiduously avoiding the latter."

Seven frowned. "Your needs are very important to me, Kathryn."

"I know, darling. Believe me, I know. That's what I'm so afraid of." Janeway pursed her lips, pausing, and Seven attempted to wait patiently, knowing her spouse was searching for the right words.

"Do you remember the baby we rescued from the Borg?"

Seven blinked, confused by the apparent shift in the topic. "What does that have to do with our current situation?"

"Do you remember how much you resented my making the decision to return the child to her people? Even though we spoke about it, argued about it, in the end, you felt that I totally disregarded your opinion and made the decision completely on my own. That wasn't the case, but as captain, I also had to do what I believed was best for the child." Janeway inhaled slowly. "I'm afraid that here, if I offer too much of my viewpoint, if you utilize what I want and think as part of the reasoning behind your decision, that sometime in the future, you may find cause to resent me again." She swallowed visibly. "That would rip out my heart."

Seven considered that carefully. "I think I understand, but I need to know your opinion, Kathryn. You are a part of my life. I cannot make such a decision on my own without your input. It must be our decision as a family unit."

Janeway nodded. "I know. It's just difficult for me to know where the line is." She turned to face the Borg fully. "If you want the truth, I don't want our life to alter, Seven. I'm the happiest I've ever been, both professionally and personally, commanding Millennium and having you as my science officer." She spoke quietly, but Seven could detect the passion beneath the words. "If you choose to look after your mother, you'll have to accept a planetary assignment, assuming you stay with Starfleet, which might not be the case. You certainly wouldn't be able to remain on active duty, nor would you be able to ship out with me."

Seven lowered her head, her gaze shuttered as she realized what that meant. "You would leave me behind," she said softly. "Or give up command of Millennium to remain with me." She was keenly aware of how much her ship meant to Janeway. "Neither choice is acceptable. It would then be you who would find cause to resent me."

Janeway took a breath, a hint of moisture in her eyes. "Now, do you understand why I'm so reluctant to give you my opinion?" Her voice was touched by huskiness. "I want the decision to be based on what's best for you and your mother, not what's best for me. Not even what's best for us."

Seven felt sick. "Oh, Kathryn, it must be the best decision for all of us."

Janeway reached over, putting her hand at the small of the Borg's back. Seven could feel the warmth penetrate her dress tunic. "Darling, I love you so much. I love our life together. I would be lying if I said I'd be happy if you decided to stay near your mother in order to care for her, but I can't, in good conscience, ask that you not. You have to do what you believe is right, and whatever that is, I'll be right there with you. I promise, there'll be no resentment on my part, regardless of your decision."

Seven crossed her arms over her chest, knowing her partner could promise no such thing. "This is so complex."

Janeway moved closer, turning her touch into a full embrace despite the fact they were in a very public place, slipping into Seven's arms and easing the Borg's tense body language. "I know, and I don't mean to make it more complicated for you, darling. The last thing I want is to be part of the problem, rather than the solution. Consider this: we'll move your mother into the very best facility we can find, whether that's on Earth or somewhere else in the Federation. Then we can decide what we need to do for ourselves after that. All right?"

Seven felt as if she were only delaying the decision, and perhaps she was, but she greeted the suggestion with no little relief. "Very well, Kathryn. I believe the Stockholm Institute is the best choice. It may not be the most renowned in the Federation, but it is considered the best on Earth. I honestly believe that being on her homeworld would be beneficial to Erin."

Janeway nodded. "Then, that's what we'll do," she told her in a reassuring voice, her embrace strong and comforting. "We'll make the arrangements first thing tomorrow morning. Everything will be in place by the time we return to Earth."

Seven squeezed her spouse, burying her face in her auburn hair, oblivious to passing pedestrians who tended to take a second look at two Starfleet officers, one of who was a captain, embracing lovingly in the corner of the Promenade. "I love you, Kathryn."

"I love you, too, my darling. I promise; we'll find a way through this. It may not seem like it now, but I know we'll make the best decision for everyone concerned, including your mother." Janeway gave her a final hug and drew back, looking up at Seven with warm eyes. "Trust me."

"I do, Kathryn," the young woman said with great sincerity. "I always will."

Janeway glanced sideways as a particularly indiscreet Bolian gaped at Seven and her. Color rose in her cheeks. "I think we need to move along, Lieutenant. We're providing too much of a show for the station's inhabitants."

Seven hesitated but, feeling better about things, offered her arm. "Yes, Captain," she said, gladdened when Janeway promptly accepted, nestling her hand into the crook of Seven's elbow.

"Have I told you how wonderful you look in your dress uniform?" Janeway said, in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood as they entered the habitat ring where the party being held in one of the large conference rooms.

Seven managed a bit of a wan smile. "Every time I am required to wear it." As they entered the decorated room, she lowered her head so that she could add confidentially, "But I believe its true appeal stems from how much you enjoy removing it at the end of the evening."

Seeming surprised at the attempted humor but considerably gratified, Janeway offered her a soft, vulnerable expression. "Will you let me after this is over?"

"Perhaps," Seven promised lightly.

As the Borg had predicted, her spouse was soon forced to leave her side, drawn away by Zar, some alien diplomats, the station's senior staff and several other starship captains. Seven retrieved some food, along with a glass of champagne, and found Ro and B'Elanna off by themselves in a corner, eyeing the proceedings with sardonic humor. The Klingon and Bajoran were as antipathetic to these events as Seven but, together, they could always find something to amuse themselves.

Seven was in dire need of some amusement ... anything that would take her mind off problems that seemed insurmountable, even with Janeway's support.

She was debating whether she would extend that assignment another year. She wasn't as young as she used to be, and there were a few times during the past months where starship duty had been a burden rather than an adventure. It wasn't pleasant to watch patients die, knowing that her ability to help them was restricted by the distance to the nearest Starfleet medical facility and the limited selection of equipment available on a starship. It weighed heavily on her at times, as she knew it would on any doctor.

"Kate?"

Pulaski turned and smiled as Ezri Dax approached. She had known Curzon Dax rather well, one might even say intimately, and she truly enjoyed his company. If the symbiont and personality now came in the form of a diminutive, dark haired young woman, that was just part and parcel of befriending a Trill. She recognized the host immediately from Bashir's description of his girlfriend who would purportedly be joining them later. Millennium's CMO had not mentioned her previous encounters with the symbiont's previous host. It would have been a bit awkward for DS9's resident doctor, all things considered.

"It's good to see you again, Dax," Kate said smoothly. "You're a counselor now, I hear." She paused. "Shorter too, but not by much."

Ezri laughed as she hugged her. "You haven't changed a bit, Kate."

Bashir blinked. "You know each other?"

"As Curzon," Ezri explained. "Kate and Dax had some ... interesting times." The slightest hint of a leer in her tone was pure Curzon, and Bashir actually needed a second to recognize what she meant. Pulaski had been right. It was awkward, and the young doctor looked decidedly uncomfortable. Kate shot an admonishing look at Ezri who didn't look the slightest bit repentant, which was also pure Curzon.

"I'll tell you what I couldn't believe," Ezri continued. "That you accepted starship duty again. I thought you had pretty much retired."

"I had," Pulaski said. "Not everyone gets the chance at a new body when the old one wears out." Ezri grinned, and Pulaski raised her glass slightly. "I was talked into it by a previous student."

"Janeway," Bashir identified in his modulated voice. "I understand she's quite a captain."

Pulaski's lips twitched. "Well, don't tell her I said this, but she's probably the best I've ever served with. I doubt anyone else would have talked me into going off into the great unknown this late in life."

"Too late, I heard it."

Kate exhaled audibly and turned to face her commanding officer. Janeway looked faintly smug, and the doctor was annoyed.

"Eavesdropping again, Kathryn?"

"If I didn't, I'd never hear anything good from you," Janeway remarked as she accepted a glass of champagne from the waiter. "Particularly about me."

She appeared about to say more, but a dignitary from the Nurtari sector touched her arm, attracting her attention. Pulaski watched her for a moment. Sometimes it seemed like there was as much bureaucracy to the job of starship command as actual leadership. Fortunately, Janeway was as adept in diplomacy as she was in military tactics and scientific endeavors. She was a well-rounded commander, and such captains couldn't be underestimated.

Pulaski wondered how Janeway would react when the doctor told her she probably wouldn't be shipping out for a second year.

Across the room, feeling rather uncomfortable being at such a function, T'Shanik concentrated on maintaining her Vulcan impassiveness. Since she and Nog were members of the ship's alpha shift, they were considered 'senior staff'. She wondered if the Ferengi felt as out of place as she did, but she doubted it. He had served on DS9 for so long that he knew many of the people attending the function, not only the station's ranking officers, but the other Ferengi who were catering the affair. Indeed, one was actually his uncle and was currently occupying his full attention, speaking with the young helmsman avidly. Nog would be remaining behind on DS9, getting an early start to his leave, rather than journeying the rest of the way to Earth with Millennium.

T'Shanik drifted over to Commander Ro, hoping to speak with the security chief who had sponsored her appointment to the bridge, but the Bajoran was in conference with the ship's chief engineer and science officer. T'Shanik was hesitant about joining such rarified company, though she lingered near them in the hopes of being considered part of the group. A motion caught her eye and she looked across the room, a sudden twinge developing in her chest.

Solok strolled briskly across the room, and T'Shanik searched frantically for an avenue of escape. There wasn't any readily available, and with a sort of resigned annoyance, she waited as he approached her location. He was tall, reed-thin as so many Vulcan males were, with severe features beneath the dark crown of hair. Penetrating dark eyes centered on her with a laser keenness, leaving little doubt that he had attended this party specifically to see her.

He greeted her in Vulcan, and for a moment, just for contrariness sake, she was about to respond in Federation standard. Repressing the urge, she dipped her head respectfully.

"Hello, brother. You are well?"

"Quite," he said. He looked her up and down in cold evaluation. "You?"

"Very well." T'Shanik did not bristle under what could be considered somewhat insulting scrutiny, but it was only because of the years of mental discipline. Switching away from Vulcan, she lifted her glass. "I had not expected to see the T'Kumbra awaiting our return.."

"I requested the escort assignment," Solok told her, ignoring her subtle discourtesy. "I bear a message from our sister."

This was worse than T'Shanik had expected. Admiral Sitak was a formidable woman, more authoritative than their mother in many ways. If she was involved, the youngest member of the clan had no hope of defying her. The family had never condoned T'Shanik's joining Starfleet, but once she proved capable of passing the requirements, they had done their best to keep her in inferior postings, ostensibly to keep her safe, but actually, because they believed her weak and potentially embarrassing to the family honor. T'Shanik hadn't actually countermanded their wishes by applying to Millennium, but she had done it in such a way that it was fait accompli before they could stop it or make any objection that she couldn't refute.

"Sitak has found your performance to be satisfactory," he said, surprising T'Shanik. For a brief second, her spirits rose before his subsequent words brought them crashing down as he switched to Federation standard. "I am arranging a transfer for you to the T'Kumbra. It will not be a bridge position, of course, but serving with an all Vulcan crew will be of considerable benefit to you."

T'Shanik suspected it was hopeless, but she tried anyway, straightening her shoulders. "I am content where I am."

Solok did not hesitate, ignoring her words as if they had never been uttered. "You can begin your duties immediately, Lieutenant. I am very pleased to have you on board my vessel."

"I'm afraid that's impossible, Captain." The voice was calm, but an underlying core of steel threaded through it, unmistakable and immediately recognizable.

Solok blinked, the Vulcan equivalent of starting abruptly. T'Shanik managed not to react that much, but she did feel her knees go slightly weak in relief.

"Captain Janeway." Solok turned to regard the compact Human with a certain kind of wariness. Obviously, her reputation had preceded her.

"Captain Solok," Janeway said calmly. She glanced at T'Shanik. "You're not anxious to leave Millennium, are you, Lieutenant?"

"No, Captain," T'Shanik responded, pleased when her voice was completely even. "I am quite satisfied with my post."

"There you have it." Janeway offered a polite smile to the Vulcan captain. "I'm not approving any attempt to raid my crew, Solok. I went through that the last time I was here, and I'm not about to have it happen again. You'll have to find your own operations officer."

Solok shot a look at his sister, and then back at the captain. "I'm afraid you don't understand, Captain. This is a family matter."

"Oh, I'm quite aware that T'Shanik is your sister," Janeway said pleasantly. "But unless she specifically asks for a transfer from my command, I'm holding onto her. And with all due respect, Captain, you just don't have enough pull to take her without my authorization."

"Perhaps, I do not, Captain," Solok agreed. His words were mild, but the meaning was clear. T'Shanik needed all her mental discipline not to give into the anger that rose within her, reining it in with an iron control.

Janeway's smile widened, completely unperturbed by the comment. "I'm sure Sitak will understand," she said with cool disdain for his sister's position. "I'll speak with her personally, if necessary. Or I'm sure Admiral Nechayev and a few friends of my father could convince her how serious I am about keeping my officer. They know that when I decide to fight for something, I inevitably win."

Solok lifted an eyebrow, but did not respond.

T'Shanik felt a tiny pain in her temple. Translating all the inflections involved, she concluded that Janeway had threatened to pull more powerful strings than even the Vulcan family was capable of drawing upon. Just to keep T'Shanik on Millennium? She wasn't sure how to react to that, but it made her feel warm in a way that she had not before experienced.

Solok inhaled slowly. "This is not the end of it, Captain."

"As far as I'm concerned, it is."

His dark eyes flashed, but he inclined his head and without looking at his sister, turned stiffly and headed for the exit. With her head tilted and a tiny curl forming on the right side of her mouth, Janeway watched him go,. T'Shanik discovered she was grasping her glass tightly and carefully eased her grip before it shattered.

"Captain, I..." she began.

Janeway held up a hand, forestalling her words. "Lieutenant, this is not the first time your brother and I have ... disagreed. He should have known better than to try something so clumsy." She lifted her chin, glancing at the Vulcan. "But I apologize if I caused any further ... inconvenience within your family situation by stepping in like that."

T'Shanik swallowed. "You are not the cause of any inconvenience," she admitted quietly. "Thank you, Captain."

Janeway offered her a half smile. "As I said, Lieutenant, I have no intention of giving up my operations officer. It took too damned long to find you."

The captain moved away, leaving T'Shanik to contemplate her champagne in bemusement. Nog abruptly appeared at her side, almost causing her to flinch.

"What was that all about?"

T'Shanik wondered how she should answer. "The captain was merely confirming her confidence in me," she told him.

Nog tilted his head, his large ears framing his knobby face, considering that, but to T'Shanik's relief, he appeared willing to let it go. Instead, he gestured toward the buffet. "Have you tried the snail juice?"

"It is unlikely I ever will," T'Shanik assured him.

"Come have a drink with me, anyway," he said, offering a snaggle-toothed grin. "I'll introduce you to my uncle."

T'Shanik suspected that she should not feel as elated as she did. It was positively un-Vulcan, but she would never forget the look on her brother's face during his confrontation with Janeway. Finally, she had seen someone put a dent in that aura of superiority Solok possessed and imposed on everyone around him. She'd cherish that image for a long, long time.

In the viewscreen, Seven's narrow features looked vaguely dissatisfied, but the Borg did not object. Behind her, the couple's quarters on Millennium were clearly visible. "I understand, Kathryn."

Janeway felt guilty, but this was a part of the job she couldn't avoid, as much as she might want to. "Beam down to Indiana without me," she told her partner. "I know that both Mother and Phoebe are dying to see you. I'll catch up with you as soon as I'm finished with the Admiral. I promise I'll be there in time for dinner."

Seven brightened at this suggestion. "Very well, Kathryn. I will tell Gretchen you will be late, just in case."

Janeway managed a wry smile. "Believe me, darling, she'd expect it in any event."

The captain disconnected the communications channel and turned back to Zar who had been waiting patiently by the communications kiosk. The San Francisco Transport Center was bustling with a sea of Starfleet uniforms mixed in with the civilians. Large transporter pads dominated the area, the sound of materialization a constant hum over the roar of the crowd. Outside, monorail trains utilizing magnetic fields carried those who were distrustful of molecular teleportation to other areas on the North American continent. On the gigantic landing fields surrounding the center, interplanetary shuttles took off and landed with monotonous frequency, bearing passengers to and from the other planets in the solar system, or to the gigantic space station orbiting Earth where the great starships were berthed.

Janeway caught her breath. After a year in space, it was difficult to get used to the seething masses of people. As she and Zar wormed their way to the large windowed entrance leading to the nearest city street, she thought she understood well Seven's antipathy to large groups.

Of course, they could have beamed directly to Starfleet Command, but since the Dominion War, when the administrative buildings had been destroyed by a Breen attack, an officer had to present a good reason for bypassing the security net. Janeway had wanted a taste of home before her meeting with Nechayev, but now she was regretting that decision. Surely, she and Zar would have been granted authorization to transport directly to the admiral's office rather than go through the transportation center.

Once on the sidewalk, the press of people lessened, and Janeway inhaled the salt tinged air of San Francisco with decided relief. Nearby, the bay sparkled blue in the afternoon sun, reflecting light onto the white buildings that were almost blinding in their brightness. The walk to Starfleet Headquarters took about ten minutes. Beside Janeway, Zar strolled easily, taking everything in and calmly absorbing the various double takes that came his way. It wasn't often one saw a Cardassian in a Starfleet uniform.

"I had forgotten," he said at one point.

Janeway glanced at him. "The scrutiny?"

"Exactly," he said, his voice tinged with wry humor. "On Millennium, it pretty much disappeared after the first few days. I actually grew used to being just another officer on the ship."

Janeway patted him companionably on the arm. "Perhaps one day no one will cause such disturbance when they walk down the street anywhere in the Federation."

Zar tilted her head. "Oh, I don't know, Captain. I'd hate to live in a society that's so homogenized that nothing can cause a stir. I may not like the constant double takes, but I'm honest enough to admit there are times when I actually get a kick out of it."

Janeway shot him a grin as they entered the plaza that fronted Starfleet Headquarters, bordered on either side by a six-foot marble wall. In the polished white stone, the names of all those Starfleet officers who had lost their lives in the Dominion War were engraved. Janeway had personally known more than a few of those names, and passing through here was always a moving, yet disturbing experience. It was a relief to enter the spacious, sunlit lobby of Starfleet Headquarters and take a lift to the floor where Admiral Nechayev's office was located.

The sector chief was a diminutive woman, with blonde hair streaking gray and keen eyes set in Slavic features. She radiated barely contained power like a warp core reactor, always on the verge of raining destruction down on whomever crossed her. Seated behind a desk that appeared too large for her, the admiral motioned Janeway and Zar to a seat.

"Welcome back," she said, her cool, modulated voice making Janeway tense as it often did. She had forgotten how much the admiral affected her. "I've been going over the reports, and it appears that Millennium's first mission was a resounding success."

"If you consider having an agent from the Orion Syndicate infiltrate the crew a success, then I suppose it was," Janeway said dryly.

Nechayev leaned back in her chair, fingers pressed together at the tips as she regarded her. "The contract imposed on you and Lt. Hansen remains a bit of a problem," she allowed coolly. "Ever since we received the last communications packet, Starfleet has made a point of clamping down on all Syndicate operations, including those on border worlds that had previously been overlooked. Ongoing searches of vessels and raids of various companies with any ties to the Syndicate are making it very clear to allied planets that we expect more vigilance from them when dealing with these criminals. In short, we're letting it be known, in no uncertain terms, that to threaten one of our own is to attract nothing but the most extreme trouble. There are already indications from our sources that the Syndicate wants to retract the contract. Until it's confirmed, however, Starfleet Command has decided that rather than the normal layover, we're sending Millennium back out as soon as the ship has undergone inspection and a level ten diagnostic on all systems. By the time you return from a second mission, Starfleet will have finished their dealings with the Orion Syndicate once and for all."

Janeway blinked, surprised. "Thank you, Admiral," she said slowly. "But I don't want to deprive my crew of their accredited leave. They need that time off."

"Starfleet understands that, and anyone not wishing to accept the new mission will not be censured," Nechayev said in the sort of voice that indicated there was no room for negotiation here. "I will advise, Captain, that while you and Lt. Hansen are on leave, you should remain alert. It's unlikely the Syndicate would dare to strike so close to the central worlds at this time, but they have before."

Janeway straightened. "I understand, Admiral." When she realized how seriously Starfleet was taking this, she became slightly frightened, not for herself, but for Seven. "Lt. Hansen is on her way to Portage Creek..." she began, and stopped when the admiral held up a hand.

"We know. Starfleet Intelligence maintained a trace on her from the time she left the ship," Nechayev explained. "Commander Patterson has made arrangements within the Indiana Agricultural Park, but it's very subtle. You won't even notice the increased security."

Janeway sincerely doubted that, but she didn't say anything. There didn't seem to be too much else to say.

"Returning to your mission report, Captain," Nechayev continued, "there's the matter of the fighters. Why are you so determined to have them removed from your ship?"

"As I made clear in my report, they didn't turn out as useful as we'd hoped."

"You mean, as I hoped," Nechayev said dryly. "Why do I have my doubts that you gave the fighters and their pilots a fair shake, Kathryn? Your distaste for their presence was clear from the beginning."

Janeway firmed her jaw. "They can't even fly escort for Millennium, Admiral. They're far too slow at warp six, and frankly, we didn't encounter many situations that required their use in combat situations. It's my opinion that the vessels are just taking up space on our hangar deck, and wasting valuable personnel who would be better suited in other departments."

Janeway was aware of Commander Zar watching the wrangling between captain and admiral with ill-disguised fascination.

"Apparently, Starfleet Command agrees with you, despite my objections," Nechayev said with a touch of sourness. "The fighters are being removed even as we speak." Janeway was careful not to allow any hint of triumph show in her face, knowing that even when she thought she won a battle with this woman, inevitably, she lost the war. Nechayev looked down at her padd. "Which brings me to the matter of your first officer." Her eyes rose to pin Zar in a steel gaze. "You've requested a permanent assignment to Millennium. This is the first time you've ever balked at a transfer."

Zar glanced briefly at Janeway from the corner of his eye. "It's the first time I've felt this comfortable."

"Well, don't get too attached, Zar. Starfleet has other plans for you."

Janeway opened her mouth to protest, and then for some reason, she paused. She should wait to see what those plans were before she started any fight to keep her exec, she decided.

"Three months ago, there was a skirmish on the Romulan border," Nechayev said. "Captain Lydia Bedford was severely injured, but both she and her ship survived to make it to the nearest port." Janeway blinked, recognizing the name instantly. Nechayev wasn't changing the subject; she had something specific in mind.

"The ship has undergone a complete overhaul, but Bedford's recovery will take a great deal more time. It's uncertain whether she'll ever be well enough to step back into the command chair. The decision was made to replace her."

Zar looked bemused, as if uncertain what the admiral was talking about. Janeway was nodding slowly. In a way, it was an ironic twist on the adage, 'what goes around, comes around.'

"You've been tagged as that replacement, Zar," Nechayev said. She reached into her desk and drew out a box, flipping it open to reveal a single pip gleaming golden in the muted light. "Report to your ship, Captain."

Zar didn't seem to know what to say, staring at the pip and then, the admiral, as if he suspected some kind of cruel practical joke at his expense. "Sir?"

"Not just any ship," Janeway finally spoke, her voice laced with pride. "They're giving you Voyager, Tulek."

Nechayev rose from her chair. "Much as I'd like to stay and celebrate, I have other commitments," she said. "Kathryn, I'll be contacting you soon on the particulars of your upcoming mission and the new exec who's being assigned to you. In the meantime, enjoy your leave." She flicked a glance at Zar. "Congratulations, Mr. Zar. I wish there could have been a more formal ceremony for this, but nowadays, Starfleet can't spare the time. Be aware that you'll need to find a new CMO. The previous one was killed in the attack that injured Bedford. You're also going to need an operations officer. Voyager is currently in orbit around Tellus Three. There's a transport ship departing from McKinley Station at 0800 tomorrow morning. Be on it."

She swept out, leaving Janeway feeling as she often did after an encounter with Nechayev; as if she'd been pummeled, only with all the bruises on the inside. The two officers sat there for a few minutes in contemplative silence, absorbing the news.

"Well, I guess I won't be late for dinner after all," Janeway finally managed. She glanced over at the Cardassian who looked as if he'd been stunned by a class two phaser. She reached over and nudged him. "Voyager's a good ship, Captain. She'll take damned fine care of you."

"I can't believe it."

"Believe it," she said. "It's not how Starfleet did things in my father's time ... or even when I made captain, but the honor is still the same, Tulek."

"And the responsibility." Zar swallowed and looked at her, his dark eyes pleading. "Am I really ready for this, Captain?"

Janeway lifted a brow. "If I didn't think you were, Tulek, I wouldn't have recommended you for your own command."

He blinked. "You did that?"

"Don't think it was easy to make that decision, either. I hate having to break in a new exec." She exhaled audibly. "I'm not saying it's going to be a piece of cake, Zar. You're going in where the crew's already established. That's not easy at the best of times."

"Let alone looking as I do."

Janeway pursed her lips. "I won't lie," she said, not unkindly. "That'll be the same obstacle it's always been, but you'll overcome it, just as you have every other challenge placed before you. I believe in you."

There seemed to be an easing in the set of his shoulders. Not much, but still detectable to Janeway who had been a little worried he'd give in to his jitters. She stood up to reach across the desk, retrieving the box. "Here," she said, waiting until he stood up before taking the pip and fixing it to his collar. At six foot six, he towered over the compact Janeway, and she had to stand on tiptoe to pat him on the shoulders and straighten his tunic. "You look terrific ... Captain Zar."

Zar's face changed at the appellation. "Hearing that is going to take a little getting used to." He paused. "I need Tarn and Spencer, Captain. I don't have time to find anyone else."

Janeway affected a look of mock outrage and slapped his chest stingingly. "I knew it. Not a captain for two minutes and already you're raiding my crew." She lifted a brow. "Spencer will make a fine CMO, but as we both know, Tarn's not even sure she wants to be in Starfleet. She promised not to make a final decision until we reached Earth, but she may have already tendered her resignation."

"I'll talk to her, Captain, and convince her to accept the posting on Voyager."

"And say what?"

He offered her a smile. "I fill her in on exactly what it's like to be a Cardassian in Starfleet," he said, heading for the door. "Then I'll show her just what perseverance can get a person."

Sitting nearby, Jake watched the Borg with unusual intensity. Seven had been vaguely surprised the Irish Setter had remembered her. The cranial capacity of a dog was not very large, offering little room for memory storage, yet he had bounded up to her immediately when she stepped off the shuttle at Portage Creek, dancing around her in unrestrained excitement for several minutes, as if he had desperately missed her. Now, he refused to move more than a few feet away, no matter where she went or what she was doing.

She turned her head slightly as the screen door opened and Gretchen stepped onto the porch, bearing two glasses of cold lemonade. At her gesture, Seven joined the Janeway family matriarch on the swing chair, accepting the glass and taking a sip of the tart liquid, letting it rest on her tongue. Jake scooted over and curled up at Seven's feet.

"What's troubling you, Annika?"

Seven lifted a brow, swallowing as she turned her head to regard the statuesque, snowy haired woman, honestly curious. "Why do you believe something is wrong?"

"I think I've come to know you quite well, by now," Gretchen said kindly. Her brilliant blue eyes studied the young woman with affection. "Tell me about it."

Seven had not intended to burden her mother-in-law with her problems, but the gentle invitation could not be resisted. Before she could stop herself, the entire story had spilled from her lips: from finding her mother on a Borg sphere in the Delta Quadrant, to the difficult decision she had to make about Erin's future. Gretchen listened patiently, nodding now and again to encourage her, reaching over to rest a hand comfortingly on Seven's forearm at the most emotionally taxing parts.

"I can't tell you what to do, Annika," Gretchen said quietly when Seven had finished. "I can only offer another side of it. I know if I were in Erin's place, I would want my daughters to do what's best for them as much as for me. To remain nearby on the off chance that I might reestablish my connection with reality would be too much to ask. No mother I know would demand or expect it of her children."

Seven felt a lightening on her shoulders, but the better part of the burden remained. "Yet, I am her family, Gretchen," she said painfully. "If I am not nearby, then my mother has no one. It is my responsibility to take care of her."

Gretchen offered a smile. "Annika, I thought you had an eidetic memory. You never forget anything."

"That is correct."

"Then how could you forget that you're not her only family? Mr. and Mrs. Erickson, Erin's parents ... your grandparents ... are still very much alive, along with Erin's brothers and sister. Don't you think you're assuming too much of the responsibility?"

Seven stared at Gretchen, absolutely shocked. She couldn't believe that she had forgotten about the maternal line of her family, not to mention the Hansen side who would undoubtedly also feel some need to be involved. She had never been close to her blood relatives scattered around Earth, perhaps because every time she encountered them, all they seemed to want to speak about were Erin and Magnus. As a result of the distance she maintained, she felt only Gretchen and Phoebe were her true extended family. Still, she couldn't believe that she had discounted the Ericksons' existence so easily. What was wrong with her?

"I had ... not considered that factor," she admitted slowly. "Gretchen, this is not even my decision to make."

"Not entirely," Gretchen agreed. She slipped an arm across Seven's shoulders and hugged her, just as she would, the Borg knew, one of her own offspring. "Annika, it's clear to me that this has you so tied up in knots, you're not thinking clearly. I also know in my heart that Erin loved you dearly and will again. Just give her the time to heal. When she does return to herself, she's going to be so proud of the woman you've become: a renowned scientist, a valuable Starfleet officer, and one of the loveliest people it's my privilege to know."

Seven felt a lump in her throat. Praise from this individual meant so much to her.

"She will be proud of me?"

"Absolutely," Gretchen said. "But you have to keep living that life, Annika. You can't give it up for her. She would be horrified if you did."

"You do not even know her."

"No, but I know you. No matter what the Borg did, they couldn't change the basic nature inside you, Annika. That's kind and brilliant and warm and loving. You had to have acquired it from somewhere, and I believe it was during the first six years with your mother and father. Your parents made mistakes, Annika. God knows, we all do. We're only Human. But I'm absolutely convinced that they loved you with all their hearts, and if they had the slightest inkling that you'd be harmed in anyway, they never would have gone within a hundred light-years of the Collective."

Seven wanted to believe her. There was a great deal of speculation and fanciful extrapolation in the elder woman's advice, none of which was based on proper scientific investigation, but Seven still wanted to believe that what her mother-in-law was saying to her was true. Gretchen seemed to sense it, and with a prescience that came from knowing when she had said enough, she kissed Seven on the temple and rose from the chair.

"I'm going in to start dinner," she said. "You wait here for Kathryn. I'm sure she'll be along shortly."

Seven doubted it, but she was content to sit on the swing, sip her lemonade and mull over Gretchen's advice. She realized she had not handled the situation with her mother with her normal analytical precision. Janeway had told her spouse more than once that she was too close to the problem, that she was reacting emotionally rather than rationally, but Seven hadn't believed her. She supposed Kathryn had been right all along, but she didn't know if she'd let the captain in on that little revelation.

A low hum attracted her attention and she looked down the long lane as a land speeder swept through the gate and up the graveled driveway. Beneath the chair, Jake lifted his head, ears pricked, but he didn't move from Seven's side. Easing to a stop near the garage housing Gretchen's hovercraft, the vehicle settled onto its landing struts as the noise of the engine died away. Janeway slipped out of the pilot's seat and strode jauntily across the lawn toward the porch, a smile lighting her face as she spotted her spouse on the chair.

Seven tilted her head slightly as the captain mounted the stairs and greeted the dog, scratching his ears enthusiastically. Then